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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565629">A Year Without You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewillalwaysenduphere/pseuds/wewillalwaysenduphere'>wewillalwaysenduphere</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pres Verse [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aaron is President, F/F, He gets shot, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Politics, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:28:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewillalwaysenduphere/pseuds/wewillalwaysenduphere</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron and Alexander break up following Alex's return from Syria.</p><p>This chronicles Aaron's year, his reunion with his former lover Bellamy, his political challenges and achievements, and the beginning of his re-election campaign.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aaron Burr/Alexander Hamilton, Theodosia Burr/Maria Lewis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Pres Verse [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1428007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Year Without You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>There are no goodbyes for us.</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Wherever you are, you will always be in my heart.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>-Mahatma Ghandi</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>1 Day After</strong>
</p><p>Aaron was sitting at Camp David, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring at the landscape before him, revealed by floor to ceiling windows. The sky was grey. The green grass seemed almost bleached of its color. Rain was pouring softly, slowly.</p><p>“Once,” he said to no one in particular, too drunk to care, “after the first time we slept with each other, I told myself that I was making a mistake. I told myself I shouldn’t see him again. That he’s the kind of man you burn yourself with. That he would never be satisfied with anything I could give.”</p><p>Aaron finished the whiskey, the glass falling out of his hand and landing on the soft carpet with a barely audible <em>thunk</em>. What was left of the expensive amber liquid spilled over the luxurious, handmade carpet.</p><p>“I always knew. I knew right from the beginning.”</p><p>Aaron closed his eyes, licked his lips.</p><p>“Never again,” he whispered to himself.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>1 Month After</strong>
</p><p>Aaron was smiling into the cameras, signing a treaty that would assure Syria would no longer use chemical weapons, would receive help rebuilding from America. Then he pinned a medal on Washington’s chest, and shook his head for a solid minute while cameras flashed.</p><p>The Syrian government had been destroyed. There was no one left who could have had any hand in capturing Alex. Aaron had been merciless.</p><p>His smile was still picture perfect, but his heart was cased in ice.</p><p>He had seen the pictures of Alex and Laurens.</p><p>He did what he could to survive.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>5 Months After</strong>
</p><p>Aaron saw Bellamy at a fundraiser, and their conversation was sharp, brutal. It was meant to hurt. Bellamy was still angry. He deserved to be, Aaron decided. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get over what Alex did to him.</p><p>But Bellamy agreed to let him visit. Maybe Aaron could make amendments. Maybe he could set a few things right.</p><p>The next time, their conversation was stilted, they both concentrated on saying the right things. But it was less aggressive. Bellamy smiled a little, and Aaron smiled back. It wasn't much, but it was something.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>6 Months After</strong>
</p><p>“Bell…”</p><p>“Is this what you came for, Aaron? Is it?”</p><p>Aaron closed his eyes, shook his head as well as he could, lying in Bellamy’s bed, under him, in a position he most certainly hadn’t planned.</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>Bellamy’s eyes were too open, too easy to read – he was hurt. But he still wanted Aaron. There was still something between them, and Aaron felt it too.</p><p>“It’s not. I came to apologize – I swear. <em>I swear</em>.”</p><p>Bellamy splayed one hand over Aaron’s throat.</p><p>“We’re gonna have a talk about this.”</p><p>Aaron nodded.</p><p>“Yeah. We have to.”</p><p>Bellamy nodded, traced his hand down Aaron’s clavicle, his chest.</p><p>“You were always too good at manipulating people.”</p><p>Aaron looked up at him, opened his mouth to say something, before he simply wrapped his legs around Bellamy and rolled him around, sitting on top of him, moving slowy against him. Eyes closed, he reached for Bellamy’s hands, intertwining them next to Bellamy’s head before leaning down for a kiss.</p><p>“God, you’re still so fucking good at it,” Bellamy whispered into his lips, and Aaron almost smiled.</p><p>***</p><p>“So, Bellamy,” Theo said when Aaron came back home after.</p><p>He shrugged.</p><p>“Not sure who’s the one I should pity this go-around,” she continued.</p><p>Aaron sighed. “We work well together.”</p><p>“He knows what this is? He doesn’t have any hopes you won’t be able to fulfill?”</p><p>“Oh, he knows. I don’t think he ever forgave me…and maybe his heart never recovered.”</p><p>“Well,” Theodosia mused, shrugging on her blazer, “you can be very destructive, Aaron.”</p><p>Who didn’t like hearing that from his wife? But Aaron couldn’t disagree. He got himself a drink, read through some more briefings on bills that might – or might never, given how efficient congress was these days – get voted on within the next month.</p><p>He went to bed without needing the sleeping pills anymore. He went to bed without scrolling through Alexander’s twitter for an hour.</p><p>Whatever that thing with Bellamy was – it was working, and right now, that was all that mattered.</p><p>Anything, as long as it helped Aaron survive.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>8 Months Later</strong>
</p><p>It was almost Christmas. Aaron had a group of school children from underprivileged districts in Baltimore visiting the White House, and they were asking him questions about the government, about education, and they were, all of them, adorable.</p><p>“Well, who gets to ask the first question?”</p><p>Twenty little hands shot into the air. A tiny girl in the first row caught his attention. Her hair was done in two little puffy pony tails on top of her head – for a moment, Aaron wondered if he and Theo were a real thing, if their daughter would have looked anything like her.</p><p>Aaron got to his knees.</p><p>“What’s your name, little lady?”</p><p>“I’m Tamiqua.” Her smile was disarming, it was clear she was so proud to be here – so happy to talk to Aaron. No, not Aaron – The President of the United States.</p><p>“It’s good to meet you, Tamiqua. What would you like to ask me?”</p><p>Tamiqua looked at her card, then at her teacher. Then back at Aaron. The teacher looked visibly stressed. Aaron had the slight feeling this wasn’t gonna go the way it had been planned. Sometimes, life didn’t go as planned. But what could this little girl possibly ask?</p><p>“Mr. President, sir, I was wondering when we were getting the new computers for our lessons!”</p><p>Well. The cameras in the background, which had stopped flashing after the introduction and the song they’d sung, suddenly flared back to life. Aaron could feel the reporter’s presence like vulture’s circling over a dead body. The teacher was looking like she wanted to disappear. That had clearly not been the question on the cart.</p><p>Tamiqua looked at him with big, hopeful eyes.</p><p>“You know, Tamiqua, there are very many schools out there. And all of them need new equipment, and sometimes it is hard to get everyone everything they need, even for the president.”</p><p>She nodded, understanding, but her smile was slipping. Aaron could use this to slam the republicans on their unwillingness to pass his education bill…but. This was a child, and he couldn’t be seen exploiting children’s misery for his political gain three days before Christmas. He was ruthless, but there were limits.</p><p>“However, since you’re already here…I’m sure there’s something we can do about that.”</p><p>Aaron winked, and Tamiqua was too excited – and young – to ask a follow-up question. Not that the reporters wouldn’t be doing it for her.</p><p>“Well, thank you for your question, Tamiqua. Who’s next?”</p><p>“Remember your question cards, children!”</p><p>The teacher looked very stressed. Aaron smiled at her. Hell, he’d been in the situation room half an hour ago. A young girl asking an honest and justified question wouldn’t kill him.</p><p>On the other end of the line, there was a girl with long blonde hair and a Kim Possible t-shirt. Aaron moved to her next.</p><p>“Hey, what’s your name?”</p><p>“I’m Claire!”</p><p>Aaron smiled, about to ask her question, when Maria moved in next to him.</p><p>“I need you for a moment,” she murmured.</p><p>Aaron got up, smiled at the kids and the reporters for a moment.</p><p>“I’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>Then he followed Maria out of earshot into the next hallway, where she turned around and looked at him in a way that made it clear nothing good had happened.</p><p>“Remember the Coast Guard ship caught in the storm and taking on water a hundred and fity miles out?”</p><p>“Of course, we talked about it thirty minutes ago, Maria.”</p><p>She gave him that look that was partly <em>Don’t kill the messenger</em> and partly <em>listen I can change laws, the news cycle and congress for you, but not reality.</em></p><p>“It sank. There were thirty-four people on board and even though they’ve sent out helicopters it’s unlikely they’ll even make it that far out. Given current temperatures we don’t expect anyone to survive.”</p><p>Aaron had learned to feel pain differently since he got elected. The same went for anger, happiness about success, and incredulity at Congress’ incompetence. He simply didn’t have time to be upset for hours – but his stomach was clenching, he had to swallow and close his eyes for a moment. Thirty-four people. It made him feel powerless, angry, he’d like to rage and throw something against the wall. But it would pass. Eventually, it always did.</p><p>“Alright. I want the numbers of the families on my desk by tomorrow morning, try everything with the helicopters, we must at least be able to say that. Also, when appropriations come up in four months, make sure this gets pulled out of the drawer by a friendly newspaper. Have someone come up with a nice headline pointing out the hypocrisy between acting like little government is good and then being upset when it's not enough to protect people."</p><p>Maria nodded. Aaron looked back – the children were waiting.</p><p>“Oh, one more thing – get them like twenty computers or something? I said it, press has heard it.”</p><p>“Fine, I’ll see what I can do. Aaron – the ambassador of the United Kingdom wants to talk about the inclusion of certain goods in the new free trade arrangement between them and us after Brexit.”</p><p>“Sure, put it on the schedule. Anything else?”</p><p>Maria looked over her notes again, which meant there was nothing. She never forgot anything.</p><p>“No,” she said a moment later.</p><p>“Good. I’ll play Santa for a moment longer.”</p><p>Aaron looked towards the children.</p><p>
  <em>Thirty-four lives. Sometimes live didn’t go as planned.</em>
</p><p>He put on his best camera smile and went back to the children, who greeted him with cheers. He kneeled down in front of Claire again.</p><p>“So Claire, you wanted to ask me a question?”</p><p>Aaron was surviving. He was almost fine.</p><p>***</p><p>Laurens handed the paper over to Alexander.</p><p>“The president seriously gave this girl’s school new equipment because she asked him in front of reporters. I mean, it’s cute. He could have used that to slam the Republicans dragging their feet on education reform.”</p><p>Alexander looked over the article fleetingly. He’d already been aware of it through his twitter, right after it happened. He kept an eye on Aaron.</p><p>“It’s good to take the moral high ground. Re-election is coming closer.”</p><p>He was proud of Aaron. For not taking the cheap shot. He knew how angry the man was at the Republicans for keeping money away from those who needed it most, who were literally the future of their country.</p><p>“You think he’ll get a second term?” Laurens was already reading the second article.</p><p>“Yeah, sure. Didn’t see why he wouldn’t.” Alex sounded like he was disinterested. He’d always been a good actor.</p><p>“Man, a ship with thirty-four coast guards sank…none of them survived. That sucks.”</p><p>Alex nodded, stirred his coffee. Kept thinking of Aaron. Thirty-four of those calls. He remembered how Aaron had cried after the nine he’d had to do that one time because a Black Hawk was shot down…</p><p>“Alex, are you listening? You wanna go to New York over New Year’s?”</p><p>“Yeah, sure,” Alex repeated, adding a smile for good measure when Laurens looked a little put out.</p><p>He pressed a kiss to John’s pretty lips, and whispered a sweet compliment in his ear. When he leaned back, the younger man looked happier. Alex took another sip of his coffee and tried to be more present, but he couldn’t help but remember the tears on Aaron’s face, the way he’d clung to him…</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>12 Months Later</strong>
</p><p>Aaron had been following the Republican primaries closely – he himself hadn’t done much campaigning, his party hadn’t mounted a challenged against him – not that he’ d given them any reason to. In any case, it was good to win Iowa this easily. If it had been so easy the last time…</p><p>He was there to accept his victory, give his first real stump speech in a while. It had been written by Yates. Aaron had called him into the Oval recently, had let him know that his deputy communications director would be leaving.</p><p>Yates had nodded and looked at him out of wide eyes, as if he didn’t dare to hope.</p><p>“Benjamin, how would you like to be my new deputy communications director?”</p><p>“Sir, I’d be honored, but I write, I-“</p><p>Aaron nodded.</p><p>“I know. And it’s what you’ll keep doing. But you’ll have more of an insight into what goes on, and I think that will sharpen your writing even more.”</p><p>Yates had smiled them and agreed with enthusiasm.</p><p>“Thank you, sir, I won’t disappoint you.”</p><p>“I know that, Benjamin.”</p><p>Yates had been beaming like the sun when he’d left Aaron’s office that day. And now Aaron knew the speech he would be given was one of the best ever written for him.</p><p>When he arrived at the venue, his volunteers were already waiting, and Aaron got close, shook hands, took selfies, thanked them for their turn out.</p><p>“May I take a selfie?”  A young woman with dark hair.</p><p>“Yeah, of course!” Aaron smiled broadly.</p><p>“Thanks for all you’ve done so far, sir.” An older black man.</p><p>Aaron shook the offered hand while looking the man in the eyes. He saw familiar pain in them.</p><p>“Thank you for believing in me, sir.”</p><p>Aaron had gotten better at this – he’d had a hard time during his first campaign for senator. By now connecting with people was easy as long as the reporters weren’t monitoring his every word.</p><p>“Machiavelli is on the move.”</p><p>Turning around to Mike, Aaron shook his head.</p><p>“We’ll have to change that code name ASAP, Mike. No one can hear that during the election.”</p><p>Mike winked at him, before continuing to scan the crowd. He must have seen something he didn’t like.</p><p>“Sir, I’d like you to get inside now.”</p><p>Aaron nodded, and Mike got between him and the line of people to walk him into the center. Mike kept looking around, and Aaron decided to get into the building as soon as possible – no need to trouble Mike further.</p><p>Neither of them saw the white man in the crowd give the signal. Later, they’d discover the shooters had been camping out in the building on the other side of the street for three full days.</p><p>Mike was between Aaron and the crowd. The rest of his detail was loosely clustered around him. The first shot hit a secret service man named Paul that had been with Aaron for more than a year now. The second hit Aaron right in the chest. He looked at Mike, in shock, before collapsing against the man.</p><p><em>Not doing such a good job surviving today,</em> was Aaron’s last thought before darkness swallowed him.</p><p>
  <em>“His left lung is collapsed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whose lung?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“There is no exit wound.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a bullet?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mr. President, if you can hear me, my name is Nathan Miller, I’ll be your surgeon.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Surgery? He couldn’t be under anesthesia. What about continuity of government?<br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>12 Months And 1 Day Later</em> </strong>
</p><p>Maria was trying to keep up with the news. Theo was in shock. Angelica had been sworn in as Acting President on Air Force One already. Trading had been temporarily suspended. Ambassadors were doing their best, but while flipping through the channels she had to admit, if there had ever been a time to panic, it was now.</p><p>“President Burr has been critically injured on his way to speak at the Iowa caucus last night. He has been brought to GW immediately…”</p><p>Maria switched from CNN to MSNBC.</p><p>“The President’s operation was scheduled to take 14 hours. We’re now in hour 18. While we know he’s still alive, there is no information so far on whether he’ll pull through…”</p><p>Maria bit her lip and switched to FOX news. Better to know what the other side was saying.</p><p>“With Burr critically injured, it is assumed he’ll need at least a few months to recover. This makes it questionable whether he’ll be able to keep the White House for a second term.”</p><p>Maria switched off the TV set. She was at the hospital, had been for the last 18 hours Aaron had been operated on. There had been <em>complications</em>.</p><p>They hadn’t been able to save his left lung. Aaron might not survive this, and Maria refused to seriously consider that option.</p><p>She took a deep breath. Straightened her blazer. She had been awake for more than thirty hours now. She needed sleep. Looking at herself in the reflection of the tv, she knew her hair looked out of place. Her make-up hadn’t been touched up in 12 hours. Her lips looked pale. The rings under her eyes were showing.</p><p>But she couldn’t go home. Not before she knew-</p><p>“Ms. Lewis?”</p><p>“Yes?” She turned around immediately. It was one of the doctors. Not the main one, the Miller guy, but-</p><p>“We finished the operation. The president lives. But he isn’t stable yet. We’ll put him in an artificial coma for a few days. He’s awake for a few minutes now. His wife is already with him. They asked for you.”</p><p>Maria pushes past him, runs towards the wake-up room. Mike is standing in front of the door, and that’s all she needs to see to know Aaron is in there. The man hadn’t left his post yet. The guilt in his eyes made it clear why.</p><p>When Maria entered, Theo was already sitting on Aaron’s bed. Aaron was looking bad. Not just tired, but exhausted. His skin seemed swollen. His whole chest was wrapped up.</p><p>Had they found a new lung this quickly?</p><p>She didn’t know, and she didn’t care, because Aaron was looking at her, tired but clear, and his lips twitched as if attempting a smile. Theodosia was openly crying. Maria made her way to the bed, sitting on his other side, taking his other hand.</p><p>Theo was already leaning forward to understand the barely audible words Aaron was whispering.</p><p>“Suspend…trading…Wall Street…”</p><p>Maria almost laughed.</p><p>“One step ahead of you, Aaron. Already happened.”</p><p>“A—Angelica?”</p><p>“She’s been sworn in. Your operation took a long time.”</p><p>Aaron nodded. Then he squeezed both their hands. Maria couldn’t suppress a shiver at how weak he was.</p><p>“I love you two,” Aaron murmured, the loudest he’d spoken so far.</p><p>“I love you too,” whispered Theo, looking at Maria, and then at Aaron.</p><p>“I love you,” Maria repeated.</p><p>Aaron was hesitating. But the doctor was waiting outside. It was Theo who asked.</p><p>“What is it, Aaron.”</p><p>“When…when…<em>if</em> I wake up. I’d like…Alex to be there.”</p><p>Theo and Maria looked at each other. They nodded.</p><p>“I’ll call him today,” Maria promised. Aaron smiled. Maria let go of his hand shortly before the doctor walked in.</p><p>“Mr. President, we’ll only put you under for a few more days to make sure your body accepts the new lung.”</p><p>Aaron nodded, and Maria waited until Theo had pressed a kiss to Aaron’s forehead and whispered something in his ear, before leaving with her. They walked a bit, shoulder by shoulder, never too close so anyone would assume they were more than friends.</p><p>“When he dies-“</p><p>“<strong>If</strong>, Theo. And that’s a big if. He’s a stubborn ass and you know that.”</p><p>Theo nodded. She was shaking, and Maria pulled her in for a hug. Theo was sobbing within a few seconds, and Maria told herself that right now, she’d have to run this show. At least until Air Force One with their current President had landed.</p><p>She made sure Theo got back to the White House and got some sleep. She put together a briefing for Angelica with everything on internal, domestic and international issues she would need to know. She talked to staff and reassured them the world would go on. She showered after about 48 hours of being awake, and finally went to bed. Before falling asleep, she pulled out her phone and called Alex. He picked up after the first ring.</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve been waiting. How is he?”</em>
</p><p>“Just like they’re saying on TV. Currently in an artificial coma. But we spoke to him earlier. He’ll pull through. I can’t…imagine anything else.”</p><p>Silence from the other end, then: “I’ve lost too many people to be optimistic.”</p><p>“He asked for you. He was awake for a couple minutes after the operation. He told us he wanted you to be there when he wakes up. Would you come?”</p><p>Alex tried to stifle it, but Maria had heard enough people cry over the last two days to know exactly what was going on.</p><p>
  <em>“When are they gonna wake him up?”</em>
</p><p>“Three days, if everything goes as planned.”</p><p>
  <em>“Hm.”</em>
</p><p>Maria waited for a second. There was the sound of typing on the other end.</p><p>“Alex, are you coming?”</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, of course. I’m booking the flight right now.”</em>
</p><p>True. Alex was in France. With Ambassador Lafayette.</p><p>For the first time Maria realized Aaron was technically seeing Bellamy. But he had asked for Alex.</p><p>
  <em>“I’ve got a flight in three hours. I’ll come by your place once I’m there.”</em>
</p><p>“I’ve got to work, Alex. Everything is going to hell in a handbasket.”</p><p>
  <em>“As if I don’t know. I’ll be there. I’ll…”</em>
</p><p>Maria sighed, turned to her side.</p><p>“He loves you, Alex. So much. He wanted you. No mention of Bellamy.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>
  <em>“I want to hear him say it.”</em>
</p><p>The sound of a laptop being shut.</p><p>
  <em>“I want to tell him I love him more. I’ll call you when I’m there.”</em>
</p><p>Maria’s eyes were slowly closing.</p><p>“I’ve missed you, Alex,” she murmured.</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, I’ve missed you, too. I’ve missed you all.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>12 Months And 4 Days Later</em> </strong>
</p><p>Aaron, in his hospital gown, tired, weak, barely able to speak, is the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen in his life. His eyes are still bright, still intelligent, still him.</p><p>Alex reaches for his hand, kisses it, just like Aaron had after Syria.</p><p>“You came,” Aaron mouths, barely able to produce sound.</p><p>“Always,” Alex vows. “I’ll always come when you call.”</p><p>And Alex has been wrong – Aaron’s smile, after hearing him say that, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in this life.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm evil, I just like Aaron getting shot. It's my favourite thing about political dramas.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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